


Self Reflection

by tobiyos



Series: Kinktober 2020 [6]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Anal Sex, Dubious Consent, Finger Sucking, Kinktober 2020, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Self-cest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:55:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26768353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tobiyos/pseuds/tobiyos
Summary: “He wanted to meet you, I guess. Not really any of my business.”“Oh, Ren,” Shadow Mishima purrs, lacing his fingers behind his back and leaning forward onto his toes. “Everything I do is your business."
Relationships: Kurusu Akira/Mishima Yuuki, Mishima Yuuki/Persona 5 Protagonist, Mishima Yuuki/Shadow Mishima Yuuki
Series: Kinktober 2020 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1970752
Comments: 2
Kudos: 43





	Self Reflection

**Author's Note:**

> Day 6! These are slowly getting easier to edit, that or I'm just... lowering my standards. But! I am Mishima posting again because he is my favorite npc and I do love him so very much. A lot of these prompts I actually ended up doing with Mishima but... whatever.
> 
> Kinktober day 7: Self-cest

Mishima wonders why it took him as long as he did to ask.

Ren had blinked at him, half in shock, sitting at one of the diners in Shibuya, before he’d set his phone down on the table, like the conversation was going in a direction he felt needed most of his attention. “You want to know if you have a shadow?”

Mishima nods. “It’s… I know when I was helping you I got a little…” He makes some vague gestures with his hands that make Ren’s mouth quirk up in a smile. “But… did you ever see me down there? You’ve kind of explained some stuff about mementos, so I know—”

“Yeah,” Ren says, leaning forward to rest his chin in his hand. “Yeah, we saw you down there a while back. Does that bother you?”

Mishima puts his hands in his lap and blinks a few time, trying to gauge whatever is going on in his head. He’s a little disappointed, to be honest, thought he was above the trivial selfishness that the Phantom Thieves had been fighting against, but he guesses now that’s not true. Maybe it was stupid to think he was above all of that when the whole of public consciousness had been fucked. He sighs. “A little bit.”

Ren hums, and fixes Mishima with one of his stares that makes him feel like he’s an object under scrutiny, pinned to a corkboard like a butterfly. His eyes flick down over Mishima’s body. “Do you want to see it?”

It takes a moment for the question to register, and then Mishima is leaning forward, gasping quietly. “C-can we do that? Or, can I, I guess? Didn’t you say after the whole mementos merging with reality thing that it all—”

Ren shrugs. “Mementos is the collective unconscious. It’s not like cognition can disappear for long.”

“It’s not, um,” Mishima looks around like he’s saying something he’s afraid other people will hear. “It’s not like… meeting my own cognition will make mementos explode or anything, right?”

Ren laughs quietly. “Probably not. We’ve all had to face our own cognitions at some point or another.”

“Even you?” Mishima asks.

Ren pauses, and slips his chin off of his hand to sit back in the booth. “Come on,” he says, and stands up abruptly. Mishima sputters, and tosses a few bills on the table, before trailing Ren out of the diner towards the station, always too far back to see his face.

They find Mishima’s shadow standing a few levels into mementos. He’s tapping his feet, staring down at the floor as Ren and Mishima approach, seemingly occupied with some strange game he’s made up to keep himself busy. Mishima knew shadows were them but he closer he gets, the more real it seems that it’s _him_ , even with the glowing eyes and the aggressive posture.

“Took you long enough,” he huffs, and Ren and Mishima both stop walking, still separated by the arching ends of the rails. Shadow Mishima shoves his hands into his pockets and glances up, sneering when his eyes catch on real Mishima. “Oh great, you brought the pipsqueak.”

Mishima winces, and glances at Ren. “Was it always like this?”

“Kind of,” Ren says quietly, and shadow Mishima rolls his eyes.

“Aren’t you two cute. I can _hear_ you, by the way. What do you two idiots want? I though you got the whole power-hungry attention slut situation figured out.”

“Uh?” Mishima says, with a questioning glance in Ren’s direction.

Ren waves it away with a hand. “Don’t worry about it.” He turns back to Shadow Mishima. “He wanted to meet you, I guess. Not really any of my business.”

“Oh, _Ren_ ,” Shadow Mishima purrs, lacing his fingers behind his back and leaning forward onto his toes. “Everything I do is your business. Or it should be, anyway.”

Mishima takes a few shaky steps forward, ignoring the way heat flares into his cheeks. “Are you really me?” he asks and gets close enough that he can reach out and press a hand to Shadow Mishima’s shoulder. It’s firm, feels just like the material in his own shirt, and Mishima really doesn’t know what he was expecting—maybe his hand to phase through?

Shadow Mishima catches him by the wrist and jerks him forward close enough to put a hand on his hip and squeeze so hard Mishima wonders if bruising follows you out of the metaverse. “Of course, I’m you!” he laughs. “I’m all the shit you keep tucked away in that little heart of yours. Every secret, every desire.” Mishima yelps when his shadow grabs him by the face and licks up his cheek, too fast for him to properly jerk away from the movement. He’s strong, stronger than Mishima, and the feeling Ren gives him about being pinned is nothing like being held in place by his own image. “You’re lucky I don’t go blabbing all your bullshit to your _precious_ Amamiya-san.”

Like a bucket of cold water has been dumped over his head, Mishima’s heart stops. “Don’t—”

“What?” his shadow asks, and the hand on his hip slides around towards his back, pulls their bodies flush together so that Shadow Mishima can look over his shoulder. “He hasn’t told you yet?”

Mishima struggles, suddenly feels like this was the worst idea he’s ever had. He should have thought—should have realized—

If his shadow is the manifestation of the desires he keeps largely to himself, of course it would know about his feelings for Ren.

“Told me what?” Ren asks evenly, and he still sounds far away, still back by where the tracks end. Mishima needs him _out_ of here.

“Naughty boy, Mishima,” his shadow says into his ear, and his breath is warm curls over Mishima’s skin. He hates the shiver that works through his body, the suddenly heightened feeling of his shadow’s body against his, his hands pressing into his skin. “What do you think he’d say if I told him how you think about him _all_ day, even when you curl into yourself at night, _all alone_ —"

“Stop it—”

“Do you think he’d hate you? Think maybe he’d get that shiny look in his eyes you see in your dreams, maybe he’ll start holding your hand and taking you on cute little dates? Maybe he’ll say ‘I love you’ when he fucks you till you can’t _walk_ , just like you want—”

“Ren,” Mishima croaks, at the same time his shadow snaps, “Stay.”

“Oh, you knew this would happen, didn’t you, Ren?” Shadow Mishima laughs. Mishima wants to see Ren’s face more than almost anything, pushes at his shadow’s shoulders again.

“I had some idea,” Ren says, and Mishima stops.

“Oh?” his shadow chuckles, and the hand on Mishima’s back trails lower, sits at the very base of his spine. “At least someone’s honest.”

“Amamiya?” Mishima asks, and his shadow squeezes him once, pushes down on his back into the arc of its leg. Mishima gasps into his shadows neck, suddenly too warm for all of his uniform, something warm and tense taking root in his stomach.

“Did you know it was this bad, or were you banking on some schoolyard bullshit. The _I like you, please go out with me, Amamiya-san_! nonsense?”

“Whatever he wanted to give,” Ren says from behind them, and Mishima pushes at his shadow’s chest.

He’s allowed the little bit of wiggle room now, just enough to pull back so he can see his shadow’s face, the jarring glow of his eyes, before he says, “Hear that?” and crashes their mouths together.

Mishima makes a smothered sound, and his hands scrabble at his own soft chest, and even he isn’t sure if he’s pushing away or trying to find purchase, but his shadow kisses dirty, nips at Mishima’s teeth and sucks at his tongue until Mishima is shaking in his grasp, head foggy and loud. Mishima is overly aware of Ren hanging back, probably watching them, and his shadow makes him rock forward onto his leg again before he pushes Mishima off so hard he topples back onto the floor.

“I _said_ ,” his shadow pants, before dropping his weight down onto Mishima’s chest, “did you hear that?”

“Hear _what_?” Mishima croaks, unable to move, his hands pinned down at his side by his shadow’s legs. He’s struggling to breathe, the burn from trying to inhale through his own weight on his chest and the arousal pushing his heart rate too fast making him dizzy. “Get off of me,” he wheezes.

“Oh, I can’t do that,” his shadow says, and leans back like he’s looking at Ren. Mishima tips his own head back to see Ren leaning casually against the curling ends of the rails, watching calmly but not really reacting at all. “See? He said he wants whatever you want to give.” Mishima looks up at his shadow with wide eyes. His own smile is mirrored back, too sharp, too cruel around his yellow eyes. “And I know you want to give him _everything._ ”

Mishima tips his head back to look at Ren again, and he’s still just sitting, with his legs crossed, looking as collected as he did at the diner. “You knew?” he asks weakly.

Ren looks up at the ceiling like he’s thinking, and then back down at Mishima. “You’re not particularly subtle. Sorry.”

“God,” Mishima exhales, looking up at the ceiling. After all this time, even with the Phan-site and the end of the world… Does it mean something that Ren didn’t do anything about it, then? He said he knew but he never—

“Stop that,” his shadow growls, and Mishima jumps when a hand presses down on his cock through his pants, wringing a high noise out of his throat. “I can see that stupid little face you’re making. Fucking crybaby,” he grinds the palm of his hand down on Mishima’s cock again, and smiles when Mishima groans. “Worried he doesn’t like you? You were doing that anyway, idiot. What’s new?” His shadow leans down to lick another long, wet line up his cheek, and then he’s sitting back with a grin. “Why don’t you give him something to like?”

Mishima can feel tears gathering in the corners of his eyes as his shadow tugs at his bottom lip with the hand he’s not using on his cock. He pushes a finger inside of Mishima’s mouth, strokes over his tongue and then down his throat so hard Mishima coughs and sputters. “Yeah, perfect,” his shadow says, and crams more fingers into his mouth, works almost his whole hand past Mishima’s sore jaw so hard Mishima can feel the ache in his face. He wants to see Ren, wants to tell him that this isn’t him, not really, he promises, but his own hand on his cock feels _so_ good, and his shadow is making him make noises that he’s never really heard before, drool streaking messy out of his mouth down the side of his face.

“C’mon,” his shadow spits, and pushes in so far again that Mishima chokes. “Say it. You know you want to.”

“ _Ren_ ,” Mishima garbles, and bucks up mindlessly into his shadow’s hand. It feels good, but it would feel better if it was Ren’s long fingers, his warm breath on his neck, muttering praises instead of ridiculing him at every turn. He’s still sitting so far away, _too_ far away, the smooth bass of his voice too soft with the distance.

Mishima whines when his fingers push down too hard on the back of his tongue. He’s messy, and his face hurts, but Ren had to see it at some point, didn’t he? Mishima gasps his name again, and again, until he’s coming in his pants, eyes squeezing shut so hard light flares up behind his eyes, and his shadow’s laugh is ringing in his ears.

“Oh, come on, what are you, fifteen?” his shadow mocks, and the weight on his chest lifts, miraculously.

Mishima blinks blearily, trying to see through the tears sticking his eyelash together, and then there are strong arms flipping him over onto the subway floor. His chin hits the ground hard, and when he gasps, his eyes lock with Ren’s. He’s still sitting further away but he looks a little more intrigued now, his head tipped to the side. “Say, ‘Thank you, Ren,’” his shadow instructs, and peels his pants off of him, exposing his too hot skin to the air.

Mishima claws at the floor and lets his shadow lift him up by the hips, pressing his face down into the ground a little harder. “T-thank you, R-Ren,” he whines, and his shadow slaps him across the ass once, hard enough that Mishima hiccups and buries his cheek harder into the ground.

“No, do it again. Don’t fucking stutter.”

“ _Thank you, Ren_ ,” Mishima gasps, and his chest feels too full of air and too empty at the same time, which only gets worse when his shadow presses a finger inside of him. Mishima groans, and pulls at the floor with his nails, tries to breathe around the sudden intrusion. There’s a mouth at the top of his ass, open at hot, and Mishima feels his shadow’s spit sliding down towards his hole, slicking up the soft edges of his fingers.

“Are you going to tell him how you fuck yourself with your fingers when you think of him, or should I?”

“ _Ah!_ N-no _,_ ” Mishima whines.

“Come here,” Mishima’s shadow says, and Mishima can barely hear the sound of Ren stepping closer over how hard he’s breathing, trying to get some control over his body again. His shadow starts to slide his finger in and out too fast, and suddenly Mishima can’t breathe again, just has to moan into the floor and take it.

He cracks open an eye to look at Ren squatting over him, his chin back in his hand, but the look behind his eyes much clearer than it normally is. Mishima feels like his gaze burns, and without thinking, reaches a hand out to wrap around Ren’s ankle while his shadow fucks into him with a finger. “Tell him,” his shadow demands, and another slap cracks across his ass. Mishima grits his teeth and arcs his back, unsure if he’s trying to push into the pain or away from it.

“I,” Mishima starts, and then closes his eyes. “I can’t!” he sobs, and shouts when his shadow pushes two more fingers into him without warning. “W-wait, that’s, _ngh_! Hold on!”

“Tell him,” his shadow says evenly, and a hand goes to pull his ass cheeks apart like his shadow is trying to get a better look at three of his fingers sliding in and out of Mishima. “Tell him or I’ll sit here and fuck you like this until you can’t come anymore.”

“ _Shit,_ ” Mishima gasps, and lets go of Ren’s hand to slam his fist down into the floor. “Ren, I, _ngh_ , I fuck myself on my fingers just like this, a-and I think about how it would feel if it was you, y-y-your hands are so pale and your fingers are— _fuck_!” He nearly snaps his neck with how hard his presses into it when his shadow presses down on his prostate, and then pulls back and avoids it, like he knows exactly where it is. All things considered, he probably does. “Ren!” Mishima pants. “Oh, fuck, _fuck_ I only think about you when I get off now, just you and your mouth and your hands, damn it, just you! I h-have to stop from saying your name when I come now, _holy f-fuck_ you might as well own me, just like this.”

Another orgasm is curling hot and painful in his stomach, he can feel it. His legs are shaking harder than they every really have, his body strung tight and electric, and it _aches_ when his shadow pulls his fingers out, before there’s a hand low on his back and another on his hip, and his shadow pushes his cock inside of Mishima in one go.

“ _Fuck_ ,” they both groan, and Mishima startles when a hand threads through his own.

“Mishima,” Ren says gently, and Mishima looks up, meets his eye right as his shadow starts to move his hips. He gasps and squeezes Ren’s hand, before his body shakes apart as his shadow pushes into his prostate. He does it on every thrust, with precision like a knife, and Mishima can’t help the way he cries, body being dragged across the floor as his shadow pulls his hips back with his cock.

“D-don’t, don’t,” Mishima sobs.

“Don’t what?” Ren asks, and there’s a thumb pressing into the tears at the corners of his eyes.

“Don’t, _hah_ , don’t l-look at me like that.”

“I just think you’re pretty,” Ren says, and Mishima hiccups tries to swallow down the more embarrassing sound he’s making. Instead, he just ends up chanting Ren’s name like it’s a prayer, leaning his face into his hand and trying to breathe past his too full insides.

“Pretty boy,” Mishima’s shadow coos, and thrusts into Mishima so hard Mishima’s eye crinkles as his cheek scrapes across the floor. “Gonna come for Ren, pretty boy?”

“Y-yes!” Mishima gasps, and he can feel it, the way his shoulders are locking tight, body focused on the long bursts of pleasure overlapping whenever his shadow pushes inside.

“Say it,” his shadow snarls, and pushes inside to stay there, grind against his prostate until Mishima bites down on his lip so hard he thinks he tastes blood.

“ _Ren_ ,” Mishima whines. “Ren, I want you to see me come, Ren, please, watch m-me come, I want you to—” he gets cut off as his shadow wraps a hand around his cock at an awkward angle. It could be better, but it’s enough, and Mishima is crying his way through the most intense orgasm he’s ever had, whole body spasming on his own cock as he works through it, probably crushing Ren’s hand. Ren holds him through it, and his shadow doesn’t stop fucking him until his body is alight with oversensitivity, twitching gently.

When he’s come out of the other side of it, panting and flushed and feeling filthy, his shadow pulls out gently, and pulls Mishima’s come covered pants back up his hips. It’s almost unthinkingly gentle, like his shadow is feeding off of his exhaustion. There are tears still drying on his face that Ren wipes over almost idly, before helping Mishima so he can sit back on his sore ass.

He barely recognizes when Ren kisses him, mouth gentle against his, but it’s still a shock, especially with how sore his face feels. He kisses back the best he can, though he definitely feels like he could do better, and then that starts to stress him out because Ren is _kissing_ him.

“W-wait,” Mishima says quietly, but Ren just grabs his hands and kisses him harder, letting Mishima melt exhausted against him. “You did this on purpose,” Mishima accuses breathlessly, when Ren finally pulls away.

Ren just rests a hand on Mishima’s thigh, massaging soothingly. He’s not even apologetic, offering a simple, half aggravating, “Maybe _._ ”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I'm doing updates and bitching about editing on my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/tobi_yos) and complaining about how there are only so many nice way to describe dicks on my [NSFW Twitter.](https://twitter.com/h0ney_bunns) Come say hi!!


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